Pages

Friday, February 12, 2016

The Power Of A Habit And Why I Got Married

A while back I had a few "blah" mornings where I had zero desire to put on my biking gear and hop on the bike. I didn't feel that way this morning, but as I biked to work in the pouring rain I started wondering why I didn't just get in the car those mornings of "blah" and what it is that keeps me biking in wind, rain, and cold.

At this point of my biking to work saga, I no longer think about what needs doing in the mornings. I have a nice little routine going where I lay the clothes out the night before, make sure my lights are charging, and in the mornings I more or less just go through the motions instead of making a conscious choice of biking.

By that I mean that I don't ask myself whether I should take the car or the bike. The car isn't even an option in my head. I've been biking to work for eight months now and I think I've reached the point of "normal". I bike - not just because I enjoy biking so much, even though that's definitely part of it - but because biking to work is my normal now.

Anyway, these are just some random thoughts I had this morning on my bike - you know, since I didn't think about penises today.

Speaking of random:

Hubby:You never talk to me while I’m driving. You're just playing on your phone.Me:Oh. I was just texting with my friend M who is amazing, but she can’t see anything other than her flaws. I wish I could make her see all the awesomeness inside of her. She’s like a magnificent pinata filled with such beauty, and all I want to do is just smash her in the face with a stick.

Me: No, I’m serious. If I said “It smells like ass in here” you’d know what I mean. Same thing with armpits, and earwax, and feet, and unwashed hair, but you never hear people saying “something smells like eyeballs in here”. I wonder if humans are immune to the smell of eyeballs.

Hubby: This is not even close to what I had in mind when I asked you to talk to me.

Me: Well, that’s the danger of not giving me a topic. I bet cats can smell eyes. That’s probably why when I wake up sometimes Posey’s face is like an inch from mine, and he’s staring right at my eyeballs. They probably smell awesome.

Hubby: Or terrible.

Me: I bet they smell delicious.

Hubby: *silence*

Me: Smell my eyeballs.

Hubby: I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.

Me:Well, now I’m all curious. I can’t smell my own eyeballs, dude. This exactly why I got married.

Hubby: You got married so you’d have someone to smell your eyeballs?

Me:Well, notspecifically. I mean, it wasn’t in the vows. But it was implied.

Hubby: You know what? I take it back. Please, please go back to your phone. You win.